


Hellsend — A Spellwood Series

by ElizabethLucy



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Love, Lupercalia, Marriage, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-01-07 01:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18400718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethLucy/pseuds/ElizabethLucy
Summary: A series of long one shots. Please send any requests to SpellwoodManor on Tumblr. Xx





	1. Ink

Zelda rushed about in her room looking for her gloves and veil. If she were to ask for counsel of the Dark Lord then it only made sense she looked her best and wore her chapel veil and lace gloves. Normally praying in her bedroom provided enough solace and devotion but recently things had changed and she needed answers.

She’s not sure when everything changed, it happened slowly, and then suddenly. Normally her relationship with Faustus was easy. They were friends, sometimes they had sex, sometimes they didn’t but they always kept everything light. Years would pass without seeing one another intimately. He still provided her with spiritual counsel, and her to him since they were the most devout the other witch knew. But since Constance’s passing the distance between them shrank. Visits increased from the both of them. Zelda seeking him out in his office, Faustus teleporting into her bedroom, and recently, very recently, she found herself sleeping in his arms after a particularly intense night together, at his house. This isn’t something they did. Premeditation of their sexual encounters was rare, even more so the comfort of one’s arms afterwards. 

She found her mind drifting towards him at all parts during the day and night, and she hated it. Hated that her mind, usually occupied by her family, Satan himself, and her hobbies, was now with Faustus. She sighed as she realized she missed him even now. There had always been a physical attraction and that aspect of their relationship happened fast, but what surprised them was how well-suited they were to one another, how well-suited they were as friends as well. The sexual part of their relationship ebbed and flowed but the friendship had remained. And now she, Zelda Spellman, felt love for the man. This could not be. Love was reserved for family, and for then Dark Lord. Love and devotion were for them. Not for sexual partners. She scoffs as she thinks of it. What would Faustus think if he even knew?

Upon finding her gloves and reapplying her lipstick in the mirror, she teleports right outside the Church of Night. The moon is out and bright and leaves crunch under her heels as she moves to open the church doors. She’s glad she’s come at a time when she will have the chapel alone, quiet comfort in the church she knows so well.

She pushes the door open and hears first, more than sees, that someone else is here. Groaning and a panting breath, followed by another whip echo in the empty church. She’s tempted to turn around and leave, let this warlock absolve himself in silence as she’s come to do. But it’s him. She knows his voice, groaning, and breathing anywhere, and Faustus lets out another scream.  
As she walks up the aisle slowly, she sees his back to her. His naked back bare to her, his tattoos hard to discern amongst the red lashes and blood against his back. It’s worse than she’s ever seen it, and she can’t help herself. He doesn’t hear her step further towards him and as the whip moves to his back again, Zelda puts out her hand to take the pain for him. 

Faustus turns in anger when he doesn’t feel the pain of the whip at his back, his face is furious. He recognizes Zelda under her black lace chapel veil instantly, her rose gold hair falling along her shoulders, but his expression is unchanged.

“Zelda, you shouldn’t be here.” She rips the cat-o-nine tails from his hands and throws it on the ground, and moves the veil from her face. She’s angry.

“I came to seek counsel with our Dark Lord. I am allowed to be here. Now turn around.”

“No,” his voice is firm. She looks at his glistening chest, she wonders how long he has been here whipping himself. His back was torn to shreds and she’s unsure if it will even heal properly considering. 

“Faustus, turn around now. Let me heal your back.” She places her hand on his chest, imploring him to turn. Her nails dig in every so slightly as a small threat. He knows she always gets her way.

He gently turns, and her eyes swim a bit with tears. They normally do this, with one another or alone, but never this far. Her hands want to touch but she knows it will only cause him more pain. She notices a small white bandage at his side, moving around to his rib cage. What has he done to deserve this much penance?

She places her hands as close to his back without touching him, and focuses on healing his skin. The blood disappears and his skin slowly returns to normal. He sighs as she places her hands on his new back, complete with his tattoos, none marred in the process. Her hands move to the bandage at his side, but he’s quicker than her, and turns to grab her hands. 

“Faustus, please, let me heal whatever it is. Whatever did you do?”

His gaze is piercing, he looks like he’s struggling to respond, and Zelda places her hand to his cheek. “You don’t have to tell me, I’ll go.”

She knew she needed a night alone with her thoughts, as clearly he did too. She couldn’t help herself to heal him, it had become second-nature to care for him. She turns and he grabs her hand, more delicately than before, “Don’t leave. Why are you here?”

“I had some things on my mind and I thought being here in prayer would help.” She looks up at him, and he looks a little hurt. She would normally seek his counsel but she can’t, not about this. 

“Is this something you can’t speak with me about?” His hand is still holding hers, and he’s stroking the back of her hand with his other. She looks at their hands, and smiles when she looks up, “No, I’m sorry. I should go. Please let me heal whatever this is before I go.” She wanted to let it go, but her curiosity always got the better of her, too similar to Sabrina.

“It’s healing now. It’s a new tattoo.” He said in a low voice. 

Zelda’s face lit up, so pleased he wasn’t hurt. “Let me see.” She had always been interested in his tattoos, she was with him when he got his first. She had picked out the ones that adorned his chest. She ran her hands across the images on his chest, and smiled at the memory. 

Faustus was still quiet, unlike him, and unlike him to hide his body from her. Her hands moved to the bandage anyway, and ripped it from him. He made no move to stop her.

She moved his arm to see the phrase at his rib cage, and it trailed off around his side. He was silent as she spoke the words aloud, “Amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non ponitur.” 

She’s surprised, Faustus isn’t normally the sentimental type. She bends down to look at the tattoo as it wraps around him, and it’s then she sees “ZS” etched into his skin just under the phrase.

She knows that meaning too, it’s her monogram. And as she looks at it, she sees that it’s her actual monogram in her handwriting. She always signed her correspondence to him that way. 

Her fingers trace the still raised skin, “How long?”

She stands up, looks into his face, her hand still on the ink on his skin. “Maybe forever. I’m not sure.” He looks anguished. 

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice this?” Her hand whispers alongside his skin. She’s hurt, she’s mad, but she’s also moved. Hurt that he felt he had to hide, mad that he didn’t tell her. 

She speaks up, “We choose to love, we do not choose to cease loving.”

“I don’t think I had a choice really, it happened, despite all of my efforts.” 

Zelda’s face is impassive, she knows how he feels but saying it out loud is so different. Faustus looks defeated. 

She quietly says, “I love you too, Faustus.” 

He smiles sadly at her, “Why are you here?” he asks again.

“You. This.” She gestures between them. “I had hoped for some counsel on the matter. I didn’t think Witches fell in love.”

Faustus grins, “This was my struggle. Then I came across this line in a book, and I couldn’t get it out of my head. Is it too much to say you’ve bewitched me completely?”

Zelda places her hands on his chest and runs them up to his neck, “I feel the same.” Her hand falls to his side and traces her monogram with her nail.

“Why the flogging? It’s too much, you look terrible. I can’t imagine the pain you’re in.”

“Because my devotion has turned to you. All I’ve ever known and been is upside down. I find myself thinking of you only.”

Zelda steps into his arms and places a kiss at his throat, her mouth opens and she sucks at the skin there. It’s slight salty under her tongue, and she continues to kiss her way around his chest as she speaks, “I think of you constantly, when I’m with you, when I’m not. Frankly, it’s been quite troublesome.” 

Faustus’s hands are in her hair, he tears out her veil so he can slide his hand through her tresses. She presses a kiss to her initials on his skin and his hold tightens. She’s tempted to bite into him but she doesn’t want to ruin it. She wants to see it forever. “What are we going to to do about it?” She presses a lighter kiss to the ink.

“Maybe if we stop denying ourselves, it will leave us more room to think. At least, that’s my conclusion. My obsession increases when you’re away for too long, and I can’t have that.”

She moves lower, pressing more kisses to his tattoos. She gets to his trousers and places a perfect red lipstick kiss just as she opens them. She pushes Faustus back, into the throne of skulls. She waits for Faustus to tell her how sacrilegious this is but surely he knows better than to stop her. She pulls his pants and boxer shorts down, and kneels before him. She grasps his length and he lets out a sigh. She smiles up at him before she takes his cock in her mouth. She’s thought about this before. It’s hard not to think of fucking him when he’s at the pulpit, using his silkiest tone. She often leaves Black Mass less enlightened and more in desperate need for him inside her. 

His hand covers hers, the one at his thigh that she’s holding on to with her nails. He tugs lightly at her hand “Zelda,” she looks up and sees his open need for her. He wants more. She does too.

She stands and turns. Faustus undoes the zipper at her back and she stands out of the dress. “Zelda Spellman, always impeccably dressed and undressed.” She’s wearing all black see-through lingerie, and undoes the tie at her panties and lets them fall to the ground. She steps up to Faustus and places her knees on each side of his thighs. They’ve done this a thousand times and yet, they’ve not in this unholy place, it feels sacred. She holds her breath as she sheaths herself on his cock, and finally lets it out as she’s taken him completely. 

“Somehow you riding my cock on the Throne of Skulls doesn’t make me think you’ll be less on my mind. This might be replayed in a loop.” She’s slowly grinding herself on his lap and he’s reaches around to undo her bra. 

“Let’s see how good it is first.” She smiles evilly at him, and tosses her head back as she continues to ride him. She knows she’s a sight to be seen. They came here for unholy absolution from the Dark Lord, and now she’s fucking him atop the Throne of Skulls. He cradles her back and head with his arms and hands as she continues to move against him. She’s close, she opens her eyes and Faustus is staring directly at her. His face is full of lust, amusement, and she can now see it, love too.

Her hands grip his shoulders and dig in as she cries out, “Satan,” as her orgasm washes over her. Faustus comes soon after, and he pulls her flush to him as he rides out his orgasm. Her soft body against his, and her catching her breath are two things he often thinks of when she’s gone. He rarely gets to hold her like this, or this long. She often disappears soon after in a flash.

“I have to confess, Father Blackwood, that riding you atop this throne has been something I’ve wanted to do since you became High Priest. I deserve a special place in Hell for waiting this long.”

“Oh Sister Zelda, there’s always been a special place in Hell for you.” She smiles at him, and she moves to get off his lap. His hands bite into her thighs, “Stay. Come home with me.” She finds she doesn’t have it in her to resist. She’s resisted too long. He presses a kiss to her blood red lips, and when he pulls away, she nods.

He summons their clothes and in a flash, they’re gone.


	2. Dance

Zelda had been in this room often as a student at the Academy but she had not stepped foot in here the day since her graduation. The dance studio sat at the back of the grounds, its own building with large windows for natural light, which was something hard to come by within the Academy's walls. 

She hasn’t danced in years, and she wonders a little why she’s out here now. The Academy no longer teaches dance, her old teacher had passed away after many centuries. She had been Russian, brutal, and incomparable. It would have been hard to find someone to step into her shoes anyway. 

The rooms are unchanged, mirrored walls, ballet barres, and wooden floors. They look as if no time had passed, and she thinks the building must have remembered her and let her in. Surely this abandoned building would have been found by the students if not for wards.

She walks across the floor, her heels loud on the wood, and glides her hand against the barre. She turns as she spots a picture of her own face at the back of the room. She walks closer to inspect it and finds even more photos and clippings of herself. She had always been Madame Volkov’s favorite. And for a person who didn’t have favorites, it was quite an honor. But Zelda had been a hard worker, a dedicated ballet student, and was naturally graceful. And when the Ballet Russe came calling and wanted Zelda then away she went. 

Her form fitting skirt and shirt was too restrictive for dance. But she secretly longed to stretch out on the barre after all of these years. 

“Still flexible, Spellman?” Faustus’s voice rang out behind her and she caught his eyes in the mirror.

Her blood red mouth turned up in a smile, “I don’t know, Faustus, you tell me.” 

He slowly walked up behind her, their eyes never leaving one another’s. As he came closer, he pushed himself against her back, and whispered, “Insanely so” into her ear as they continued to look at one another. She presses her body back against him, wanting to feel more of him.

His hands raked down her body, trying to touch her as much as he could. “How did you know I was here?”

“I confess I looked for you elsewhere, your office, my office, the choir room, and then here. My next guess would have been the herbology greenhouse.” His hands pull up her skirt, and he’s instantly rewarded. No panties. 

“All good guesses,” she replies as she lays her head back against his chest. His fingers tease at her entrance. Her hands are on the barre, and her eyes are still locked with Faustus’s. “No panties,  
Miss Spellman?” 

She’s standing in only in a garter belt and her stockings with her skirt up around her waist. “Stop ripping them from me, I’ve lost more than I can count. This seemed like the best solution.” His eyes flashed as he grinned. He ripped her silk blouse completely open, buttons flying, and he pulled it from her arms and dropped it to the floor.

“What about blouses, my dear? If I rip all of them will you walk the halls of the Academy like this?” His hands are at the back of her bra and he unclasps it, and also tosses it from her. “Actually, I prefer this look,” he presses a kiss to her neck. He’s woefully overdressed now with her in close to nothing, and he fully dressed in suit and tie. 

She pushes back into him and feels his hard cock through his trousers. His hands are at her breasts and he’s slowly torturing her with his touch. “Do you think you would teach dance here at the Academy? I know you already have a full schedule, but maybe after school or an elective for our students?”

Her eyes are dilated and he’s continuing his ministrations, her voice is low, “Is this really what you want to talk about, Faustus?”

“I can’t seem to be with you without burying my cock inside you, so I thought I could do both.”

“I’ll answer when you’re fucking me then.” She smiled at him in the mirror. He moves his hands to his trousers and quickly he’s rubbing his cock against her entrance. Maddening them both with lust in the process. She hates that he does this, she also loves it. “Please, Faustus.” 

“Do you have any idea how erotic you are, Zelda? Every fantasy come to life.” Her breath hitches, and she leans her head back against his neck, and looks at him in the mirror. He always says things like this to her and she will never tire of hearing it. His eyes are dark with lust, and his eyes rake over her face and body. 

He pushes into her, and she closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of him inside her, at last. Her hands grip the barre to stay still as Faustus moves within her. His breathe in her ear, and he’s continuing to whisper a litany of compliments. “Look at us,” he says, and she opens her eyes to look at the two of them together. They always made a pair, back in their days at the Academy and even now, a century later. 

His eyes catch hers, and she wishes he were more undressed, she wants his bare chest brushing against her back. Feeling his heated skin on hers, flush with arousal. She brings her arm back and hooks it around Faustus’s neck, and he presses his face into her hair. He breathes in her intoxicating scent. Zelda Spellman, always smelling of gardenias. She’s so warm and open in his arms, so unlike how she is otherwise. He continues to move within her, his hands gliding over her breasts. He needs more, her hands on him. Her nails cutting into him, her breath in his neck, feeling her chest rise and fall. She closes her eyes and sighs. “Grab ahold of me,” he says, and she brings her other hand behind her. His hands grip her waist, and he teleports them to his house. She’s laying in his bed, him still at her back. He pulls himself from her and stands. She turns over and slides off the bed. 

She motions for him to sit on the bed and he’s done as he’s told. She kneels before him, still naked save a garter belt and her stockings. He’s mostly dressed still, though his trousers pool at his feet. She tugs at his shoes and slides them off, with his socks, and his sock suspenders. She pulls his trousers and boxers from him, and stands between his legs. He’s far overdressed and she slips the knot at his neck loose and works the buttons at his shirt, more and more skin revealed as she continues. She feels compelled to touch him after slipping off each new item, reveling in his bare flesh at her disposal. Her hands palm his chest and she kisses his neck. He brings his hands to her ass and pulls her closer to him, her skin on his. Her chest against his. They’re quiet, unusually so. They’re more loud and violent but this quick moment in the dance studio changed the minute he brought her back to his private quarters.

She tentatively presses her lips against his, she moves so slowly even though they’ve done this thousands of times. At first it’s a light press of her lips, and then he holds her tighter to him, and a wave of arousal flows through her. She swipes her tongue across his lips and he opens his mouth to her. She’s kissing him and she can’t stop. She’s addicted to his taste and his talented tongue in her mouth. She feels like a teenager again, before harder more carnal desires took over. She always maintained the line of devotion and never let anyone deflower her before her dark baptism. Including Faustus. 

Now they have no reason to hold this position, and yet they continue to kiss, holding one another in their arms. She pushes him back, her lips still on his, and climbs atop him. She rises up and positions herself atop him. She feels his cock pressing at her entrance. He lets out a sigh as she teases him, not yet resting back and sheathing him. It would be so easy, he’s right there, and she’s so wet and ready for him. But he loves to be toyed with too, but he’d never admit it.

They continue kissing, their breaths heavy, and she’s still toying with him. He nips her lips for the first time, a marked difference from his prior softer kisses. She sits back slowly, and he slides in her. She’s surprised how different it feels, going this slowly. Her pleasure is heightened, and she feels every inch of him as she rocks her body against him. Her hands are braced on his chest as she moves, his hands are at her hips holding her against him. 

She’s starting to get sweaty with her ministrations, and she’s breathing heavily. Faustus moves them and rolls her over. He grips her thighs and runs his hands along her legs. He loves feeling them wrapped around him, holding him close to her.

He kisses her while he drags out his thrusts, and she’s close. A wave comes over her body, and she’s looking forward to release finally. Her body clenches around his cock, and the tightening around him is his undoing as well. He’s unsure if Zelda is aware that her legs always lock him in place, keeping him inside for as long as possible as he empties himself inside of her. He pulls her in for another kiss. Their bodies are sweaty, but he’s loathe to peel himself away from her. He makes a move anyway, they aren’t the snuggling type, but her heels dig in around his waist, not letting him move. “Stay,” she says as she touches his face.

“You forgot to answer,” he gently says as he kisses a finger gliding over his lips. 

She smiles, “My lips were too busy to speak. I’ll teach dance, if you stop ripping all of my delicates from me. Fair?”

“Fair,” he smiles back at her, and brushes the hair from her face. “What if I replace all the ones I’ve ripped? I do so love ripping them from you.”

She shakes her head, “Now, now, Faustus, we made a deal. But if you want to convince me,” she bucked against him, “I can be persuaded.”

—————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forever stand-by that Zelda was a ballerina, this is just a light story inspired by that. 
> 
> There are more little oneshots I have swirling about, I’ll write them when I get a hit of inspiration or need a break from Another Year. Feel free to let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see. Xx
> 
> SpellwoodManor on Tumblr.


	3. Nox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — AU where Zelda and Faustus are actually in healthy-ish relationship. Zelda is having a difficult time sleeping due to Sabrina's antics and is too proud to accept help from anyone, least of all her husband. So, Hilda has to sneak around and ask for his help anyway.

He sees the bright glowing amber of her cigarette burning before he sees her. It’s nighttime, or rather, early morning. She should have been asleep hours ago, and he should have too. The pea gravel of the drive crunches underfoot as he walks up to the Spellman House.

Over the past year he’s usually with her, or she’s with him at the Academy. He’s not normally one to drop by the house without first announcing himself. But Hilda had asked him for a favor, and he wasn’t about to refuse.

The past year had not settled down Sabrina or her spirit thus making Zelda’s tight rein on her all the harder. For the both of them. So now, while Sabrina slept and dreamt up new ways to cause trouble, Zelda stayed awake, hopelessly unable to sleep. Often sitting up trying to either undo the mess in Sabrina’s wake, or how best to stop her. Nothing Hilda had said or done, like slipping sleeping potions in Zelda’s nightcap, had worked. In an exasperated state she called Faustus to help. He was both amused and pleased that Hilda had finally warmed to him, and trusted him enough to ask for help. 

He brushed through the wards surrounding the house easily. It had also spoken volumes to where they were in their relationship. As far as he knew, the wards only allowed guests during daylight hours, and all Spellmans at other times.

As he walks up the drive and makes out her shadowy figure sitting on the porch, he hears her say, “Faustus,” in both a greeting and surprise. He’s now close enough to see her face, illuminated by the high full moon and the glow of the cigarette at her lips.

She doesn’t move to get up, and he leans over her to press a kiss to her cheek, “Hello, darling.”

She’s in nightclothes and he wonders why she even bothers changing. He doubts she even slipped herself in bed, but came directly out here once everyone trudged off to bed. But Zelda was full of pretense, and outfit changes. Not that he was complaining. She looked exquisite in a long black silk nightgown with a matching silk robe.

He sits down beside her, “Couldn’t sleep?”

She huffs and a plume of smoke rises out of her mouth. “Clearly, I should ask you the same thing.”

“I couldn’t sleep and I thought perhaps you would be awake as well.” Which is true, he couldn’t sleep knowing Zelda wasn’t sleeping. 

He takes her cigarette from her, no holder in sight, and takes a drag. She smirks at him. “I haven’t seen you smoke in years.”

“It’s a terrible habit.” He looks over and smirks at her. And takes another drag, and flicks the ash off the end. “How long have you been not sleeping?”

She stands up and walks to the edge of the porch, her hands resting on the railing. “Oh, so I see. Hilda put you up to this.”

He stands, takes the last drag of the cigarette and puts it out in the full ashtray beside him. “She asked me if I could help.”

Zelda rolls her eyes, in typical fashion. “I’m not a child. I’ll sleep when I need to.” She raises an eyebrow, “What was your plan?”

“No plan, I just wanted to see you, and see if you needed anything.” She steps a little closer to him, and she eyes him up and down. He’s in his silk pajamas as well, a robe thrown over and wearing slippers. 

“Did I wake you up? You need sleep.” Her hand lightly touches the silk lapel of his robe, and moves to his chest. Her nails lightly scratch the fabric over his chest. 

“No, I truly couldn’t sleep knowing you couldn’t.” He pulls her closer to him, her body flush with his. He brushes her hair over her shoulder and places a kiss to her neck. “I thought I would keep you company.”

She pulls back a bit, there’s a glint in her eye, “Oh, and whatever will we do in the meantime?”

“I’m sure we can find something,” he ground out before pressing his lips against hers. She moaned beneath him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. 

His hands gripped her waist tightly and before she could catch him out, he teleported them to his house. 

She pulls away from the kiss quickly, “Faustus, take me home this instant.”

“No,” he smirks at her. He likes getting her ire up, he knows she’s not actually all that angry with him.

“You’re being impossible,” she huffs and pulls out of his arms. She paces in front of his bed, her hands angry and antsy. He likes her like this, but he likes her always. 

“And so are you, my darling. You need sleep. We all do. I’ll pass the time with you, if you won’t sleep. But I prefer to spend it here instead of the front porch. Especially since I remember you pushing me down the stairs, I’m not sure I’ll live the next time you do it.”

She lets out a laugh, “That was decades ago, almost a century. Honestly, Faustus.” She smirks, “Though I’m more fond of you now, I’d surely bury you in the Cain Pit.” She walks towards him, he’s by now seated in one of the chairs in front of the fire. 

She bends down and presses a light kiss to his lips. His hand snakes behind her head and she opens her mouth as his tongue begs for entrance. She moans in his mouth and it only heightens his lust for her.

He grips her ass with his hands and guides her into his lap. She’s kneeling with her knees on each side of him. He’s aching to have her weight on him, more of her, more of Zelda always.

His hands are at her hips trying to guide her down, so she can grind herself astride him. She’s resistant and pulls her lips away from his.

“Eager?” She raises an eyebrow. He bucks up in to her, as best he can. 

“For you? Always.” She smiles, a genuine one and she grinds herself on his lap. Suddenly both are quiet save for heavy breathing. He brushes the robe from her shoulders and a strap from her nightgown and kisses where it once laid.

He brushes the other strap and presses more kisses to her shoulder. She’s lengthening her neck and he can’t help but continue to kiss her. She moves her arms and the slip falls down and pools at her waist. 

His hands ever so slightly brush her breasts, and she holds her breath at his touch. He knows what she wants but he’s tempted to hold out, even though he wants it as much as she does.

He presses a kiss to her clavicle, her sternum, and pauses. Zelda moves her hands, one at her breast, and another at the back of his head. Guiding him to put his mouth on her, as if he doesn’t know what she wants. He smiles, what a greedy lover she is. He loves her. 

It’s all it takes for him to open his mouth and wrap his lips around her nipple. Her head falls back and she presses herself harder into his lap. She’s moving astride him and there are far too many layers between them still.

He’s sucking at her breast, and he moves his attention to the other one. She moans and her hands fist in his hair, trying to keep him as close to her as possible.

He pulls back and let’s his hands fall from her breasts. She brings her face level to his and she looks mad. He smirks. “Stay the night, and I promise you’ll be coming underneath me with my mouth on your tits in no time.”

She closes her eyes briefly and licks her lips, she’s giving herself some time to compose herself. When she opens her eyes again, she looks ready to bargain. “As much as I want that,” she grinds down again into him, pulling a moan from him, “Faustus, I told you that I won’t spend the night because I don’t live here. And don’t use sex as a bargaining chip.”

He laughs and rolls his eyes, “Says the witch who uses it as a bargaining chip always.” She rolls her eyes back at him.

He moves his mouth close to her breast and breathes ever so lightly and swipes his tongue over her nipple. “And you refuse to live here because we aren’t married, despite my asking.”

He moves his mouth towards her other breast and does the same. 

Her breath hitches, “I told you that I would marry you once things with Sabrina settles down.”

He laughs outright, “Zelda, you and I both know that things with Sabrina will never settle down. She’s too fiery. Too much like her aunt.”

His hands come back up to her breasts and he massages them ever so gently and she starts to rock against him again. She leans back and gets up from his lap. She’s standing in front of him as the slip falls completely from her. “Fuck, Zelda.” She’s always had the upper hand. He’s wanted her forever, and she’s never given him a clear intention of committing to him. Though he knows her well enough to know that’s just her, and nothing to do with him. If she didn’t want to be here, she wouldn’t be.

She raises an eyebrow at him and pulls down her matching silk underwear. She moves towards him and kneels before him. She slides his feet out of his slippers and sets them aside. She slides his robe from his shoulders as best she can. Her quick fingers pull the buttons through the loops, exposing his chest. Her nails trace his various tattoos on his chest and she presses light kisses to them. He hears her whisper, “Fine,” between kisses.

He looks down at her and puts his hand at her cheek so he can see her. “What?” He’s confused.

She huffs, “Fine, I’ll marry you, Faustus.” 

He laughs, “What a resounding yes that was.” She looks slightly annoyed at his words but before she can say anything else, he pulls her lips to his and buries whatever words with his talented tongue.

She eventually pulls away, her head lost in thought, “You’re right. If she’s like me, she will hold out forever. There’s no taming her. Nothing I do will change that, she’s going to have to get it out of her system.”

Faustus nods, she’s right. She stands and paces in front of him talking about her and Sabrina, and Sabrina’s various problems. This is what she had needed an outlet somehow. She’s rare to open up and talk to, he had benefited as her High Priest, and then confidant over the years. He was in a position he guarded carefully. To know all of Zelda.

She’s still pacing in front of him, without a lick of clothing. It’s hard for him to believe she finally said yes, after all of these years. Zelda Spellman. His soon-to-be wife. 

She turns to him in mid-sentence and quiets herself. “What?” 

He stands and walks over to his bedside table. He gets out a small box and hands it to her. She smiles, knowing boxes that small contain the best of presents. 

What he doesn’t expect is how quiet she is when she opens the box. He suddenly feels nervous, as though he’s read her wrong all of these years and doesn’t know what she likes.

“How long?” She looks up at him. “How long have you had this ring?”

“Since the day I saw you hover over it briefly.” There’s no point in lying about it, she remembers it clearly. It had been a hard ring to forget.

He walks over and pulls the ring from the velvet interior and slips it on her finger. “That was roughly a hundred years ago, Faustus.”

“It was,” he nods as she looks at him, her eyes a little teary.

He would have waited for a hundred more. It never felt like the right time. He had been rebuked by Edward, Zelda eventually flitted off to Europe, he tried to settle down, Edward died, Sabrina was left to Zelda, etc. It turned out there was no good time. It was just the doing of it. Finally, she had said yes. 

She pulled him into a kiss, her mouth was demanding. Her hands caressed his back, and he could feel the cold platinum of the ring gliding along. He’s almost waiting for a bruise or a gash from the diamond, it was too large to not get in the way of her fervor. But he would savor any mark it made, like any of the others she would invariably leave behind. 

She pulled away eventually, their lungs desperate for oxygen. She slid her hand into his and smiled as she looked down at them. She walked towards the bed in nothing but a smile and a ring. “Come to bed, Faustus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit that said, “husband,” for some reason didn’t register with me when I first read it so I hope I came through in the end. Many thanks to @thatatwaterchic for the prompt. Xx
> 
> Feel free to send me some over on my tumblr — SpellwoodManor


	4. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Blush — Rough and violent hate sex!
> 
> TBH, this was so hard for me to write but I wrote what I could. There are sooooo many good fanfics of this between these two that it was very intimidating to write. But I hope I did it some justice.

He felt her before he saw her. The wards of the house shook in her quake. They were, of course, open to her. This house was hers now too. Though Blackwood Manor would forever have the slightest bit of resistance at letting a Spellman through. Even her. 

The door slams and he’s smiling into a glass of whiskey. Her power is flowing over and through the house, permeating everything with her anger. He likes this side of her, he likes all sides of her. As her heels clip closer on the marble entryway, soon to enter the study he’s no longer smiling. He can feel her anger is not with her family, which is something he loves to revel in. But no, he knows now. It’s him.

Her face is stunning when it’s angry, she looks luminous when she’s out for blood. Her eyes affix to him and she doesn’t stop to acknowledge him. He stands from his desk, to greet her, as if he can’t feel her energy. She collides her body with his, and pushes him into the bookcases behind him. One of her hands is at his throat, tightening, and the other is at his chest. 

She looks frighteningly beautiful, her eyes are somehow glowing. And when she finally speaks, it’s not a scream or a yell, it’s a deadly whisper. It’s somehow almost sweet. And it’s even more disturbing. Zelda Blackwood nee Spellman was anything but sweet.

“I just finished having an interesting conversation with Sabrina, darling. Do you have any idea what it might be about?”

Faustus was tempted to roll his eyes. Sabrina Spellman, the thorn in his side.

He manages a, “No,” in a raspy voice, her nails now cutting into the flesh of his neck.

She smiles, teeth gleaming like pearls between her red lipsticked lips. “Oh, well I’ll tell you.” This proximity to her has his blood boiling. She had always had this effect on him, even in moments like this, well, especially moments like this. He longed for her body on his. 

“Sabrina told me that she believes, and has evidence of the fact that you had Edward killed. You, Faustus, were part of a plot that sent his plane plummeting into the Atlantic.” As she spoke her hand on his throat tightened, and soon he was gasping for air, choking. She didn’t let up. She tightened her hand, stood closer and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

“Tell me, did you?” And just like that she steps away and he heaves over trying to get air back into his lungs. She turns and picks up his whiskey, drains it, and saunters to the bar cart. They’ve had their fair share of fights through the years, often with Faustus on the receiving end. But he was not without his anger towards her, towards her family, towards many things. He burned bright, as did Zelda, but she also enjoyed this deadly quiet cat and mouse.

She pours another drink, and settles in a chair by the fireplace. Faustus’s breathing has returned to normal, and he follows her footsteps towards the bar. He pours himself a drink, takes a sip and settles in the chair beside her. He’s exploring his options while the liquor hits him. He would he honest, this is how these fights played out. No lying.

She’s patiently waiting, sipping her drink. Her eyebrows arch as he begins, “Tell me something first.”

She nods, and he continues, “Would you have married me if I were not High Priest?”

Her face turns, as if she’s about to consider the question and answer but she’s of course faster. Her mind knows where this is going. She throws the crystal tumbler of anger liquid at him, and he grins and catches it. He holds it in his hand and the glass crumbles within it. 

She won’t be defeated for long and she lunges at him. Both of her hands are now at his throat, “You’re a bastard, Faustus.” And just like that she lets up. She stands, smoothes her dress, and walks over and pours yet even another drink.

He clears his throat, “You wouldn’t have. You wouldn’t have given me the time of day if it weren’t for my prospects and my power. I saw how you changed after Edward became High Priest. You became so dedicated to him, you were so proud of him. You never gave me a second thought once I was passed over.”

“You know that’s not true,” she says, her back is still towards him.

He drains his glass and throws it in the fireplace, the glass shatters and crackles within the fire. She turns around, staring after the glass.

“Oh yes, you’re right, not just power. No one else can fuck you like I do. Are those the exact words you used? It’s been years since I last heard them.”

She slides towards him and slaps him as hard as she can. Her engagement ring catching on his face and he can feel blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. How appropriate. 

She moves her hand to hit him again but he catches it this time. His hand clenching around her wrist and he pulls her towards him. His lips ever so lightly ghost across hers and then he crashes his lips to hers. She tries to resist, tries to rip her hand out of his grip, but his other hand at her lower back presses her body even further into his. Her body acquiesces, she returns the kiss, and her tongue glides across his.

He does remember the exact words. Zelda doesn’t give out compliments readily, not now and not ever. She once whispered it to him after a particularly passionate night, after Edward had been announced as High Priest. As if Zelda felt it her duty to give out a consolation prize. As if to say, sorry about not becoming a High Priest but your cock is spectacular. He knew she didn’t mean it like that. She didn’t lie to him, she didn’t say untrue things, it wasn’t like her. But it still stung.

Even more so when Edward rebuked his proposal to Zelda. He had then thought that maybe she would be a consolation prize, the perfect one. If he couldn’t have the position, at the very least he could have Zelda. And yet he had lost that too.

But now he had both. He knows she hates him. But she always sort of had. He assumed she knew he had some hand in killing Edward, but this was the first time they had ever spoken about it in anyway.

Her kisses have become violent, more biting, more bruising, most likely more blood. She would make him pay but she would stay. He knew she would. He knew she liked her position as his wife, as Lady Blackwood. And as she unbuckled his belt and shoved his trousers and boxers down, he knew she liked fucking him too much.

One of her hands stroked him as his hands became busy unbuttoning his shirt, stripping off his tie, and shrugging out of his shirt. 

His hands glided down her back unzipping her dress, and now he became rushed in his need for her to be naked before him. He ripped a pieces of delicate lingerie as her talented hands glided over his cock. He needed to regain some ground.

“It’s not as if you were an ardent supporter of your brother, Zelda, so I wonder why now you seem to care.” She grins, she knows his game, and kneels before him. 

She licks just the tip of his cock and looks up at him. “I didn’t care for his policies but he was my brother. You murdered him. And Diana.”

Faustus grins wickedly as she takes him in her mouth, “Says the woman who murders her sister. And if I remember correctly you couldn’t believe that your brother was, what was it you said? ‘Cunt-struck by some mortal?”

Zelda pulled back, her eyes aflame looking at him. She didn’t like to be called out. Those things were all true. He couldn’t help but continue, “You just care now that you have Sabrina, who most likely called you out. I’m sure in a way you’ve always known. Always known that I had a hand in it somewhere. And yet, here we are.”

If he didn’t know her he wouldn’t have caught the glimpse of shame flitting across her face. But he did. And he knew that Zelda craved power, status, and him. It had been her downfall. It had been his as well. Her anger was most likely directed at herself. Knowing that she had known. Knowing that she had married Faustus anyway.

Faustus kneeled before her and she hit him again. She would take her anger out on him, she always did. He assumed Hilda would be thankful for him all of the rest of her years considering Zelda now assigns blame to him, and Hilda is no longer on the receiving end. 

Zelda shoves him back and maneuvers to sit atop him. He groans as he slides into her, and she sets a brutal pace. She’s riding him hard, and it’s clear she’s there to chase down her orgasm. She’s had her drink, she’s had his blood, she’ll have her orgasm, and she’ll light a cigarette. 

She’s panting above him and her hands atop his chest are cutting, and then she stops quite suddenly and shudders above him. Her walls tightening in waves over and over again and he comes wordlessly into her. Watching her ride out her orgasm. As she finally stills completely, she looks down at him grinning. As if she has a secret. Made a decision.

Her face hovers just over his, she presses a kiss to his lips, whispers a little Latin and he feels the air rush out of his mouth. His eyes go blurry. She swims in front of his, hair mussed, lips bruised. He thinks he will see her tomorrow, fresh from the Cain Pit. Or, as his vision goes black and his body slack, he hopes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, leaving kudos, bookmarking, sending in prompts, and leaving comments. I appreciate it all. Xx
> 
> Feel free to send me prompts on SpellwoodManor on Tumblr. I promise to get to them.


	5. Academy Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Academy Spellwood. Specifically keeping their activities hidden from Edward, and having fun at his expense.
> 
> * I can never help myself and always have to add a little backstory.

The Blackwoods and the Spellmans were feuding families as long as Zelda can remember. They had always sat on opposite sides during Black Mass. Her father had instilled in Zelda and her siblings that the Blackwood boy was not to be played with or said hello to. Her brother Edward had taken it to heart, but both Zelda and Hilda felt sad for the Blackwood boy as he sat between his parents. No siblings to sit with him.

Zelda, naturally inclined to disobey rules promptly struck up conversation with him. Played with him, and traded books and notes with him. Eventually they grew up and stopped playing, and the books they passed became more and more advanced. Both were terribly interested in their powers and exploring all it had to offer.

He left for the Academy two years before her, the same year Edward left as well. She and Faustus managed to keep their letters and friendship from Edward. Soon Faustus would start slipping through the Spellman wards to see her, and tapping at her window. Her very own Peter Pan. 

And then just like that, Zelda knew when she left for the Academy it would be the turning point in their friendship. He had eyed her during her Dark Baptism, their parents still, yet again on opposite sides, even here in the woods.

As everyone left one by one, Zelda too followed. Anxious to spend her first night in the Academy. As she walked, she was stopped by her brother, his hands gripping hers tightly. “I saw Blackwood staring at you all through your baptism. I would keep an eye out, who knows what he would do to you. Actually, his reputation precedes him, as of his father’s. Let me escort you back to the Academy.”

Zelda shrugged out of his hold, “His name is Faustus, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Edward.” She paraded away, scoffing as if she needed a man to protect her. As if she weren’t already more skilled and powerful than Edward despite him having two years on her.

She only slowed her pace ever so lightly when she heard a twig snap behind her. A smile rose on her face, and soon a hand slipped into hers.

She turned her head to see Faustus, “Oh, so I have a reputation?” He smirked as he spoke.

“As if I didn’t already know, and as if I cared.” Zelda rolled her eyes. Edward was right, he did have a reputation. But if she were Faustus’s age, she would have been the same. 

And now, he was being gentlemanly, escorting her through the woods, though she knew better entirely. Or, at least, she hoped. Her virginity was nothing to her now that she had signed The Book of the Beast. 

She turned to Faustus, as if to say as much, and he quickly pressed a kiss to her lips. And then another. And another.

As they left the woods that evening, hand in hand yet again, Zelda knew that she would not be kept from the Blackwood boy. Nor would he be kept from her. Their families be damned.

Keeping their friendship and relationship from Edward had both proven difficult and funny. It was hardly their fault when they were the leads for The Passion of Lucifer Morningstar. Hardly their fault when Zelda landed in front of Faustus time and time again for Lupercalia. 

The years passed and outsmarting Edward had become habit. Faustus pressing Zelda into whatever hidden nook had become even more difficult as Faustus now had to tutor Edward. No one was happy about the prospect.

And so when Edward walks in to Faustus’s office for his corrected runes homework, he is absolutely shell-shocked to see Zelda completely naked atop Faustus’s desk. Her back is to him, thankfully, but he knows it’s her. Her red hair and her voice crying out Faustus’s name makes it so. Edward can barely see his former classmate, now mentor, from behind Zelda. But as she quiets down, Faustus rises and presses an obscene kiss to her lips. 

Edward clears his throat, more determined and angry to uphold the Spellman family values, than he is embarrassed to witness any part of this.

Faustus looks past Zelda and smiles. “Ah, Edward. Here is your runes homework. I expected better considering all the time you said you spent on it.” Faustus says it as if he wasn’t just caught tongue fucking Edward’s younger sister.

Zelda whips her head around, and as she does she’s dressed in a flash. 

Edward’s face is about to burst into apoplectic rage. He doesn’t even know where to begin. Instead Zelda and Faustus walk towards him, sit him in a chair, and hand him a glass of whiskey.

“I won’t tell Mother and Father about the mortal you’re in love with, if you don’t tell them about Faustus.”

“And I will continue to mentor you, correct your homework, and help you become a High Priest, if you keep your mouth shut.”

Edward somewhat relaxed into his chair, though he was still outraged with being blackmailed. “But how? Why? For how long? You can’t keep this from them forever. He’s now your teacher.”

Zelda laughed. “Oh poor darling Edward. It’s been happening for years. We’ve been friends for years, we’ve been together for years. But we don’t owe you an explanation. Go be with your mortal, who will remain unharmed as long as you keep your mouth shut.”

Zelda had not been above cruelty in any capacity. She had harrowed poor Hilda almost to death, so he ran from the office as quick as he could but not without hearing his mentor saying, “Where did we leave off?” and his sister’s accompanying laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. Again, please feel free to send me prompts on SpellwoodManor on Tumblr. Xx


	6. Many Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Faustus and Zelda with their own small ways of saying, “I love you.”
> 
> I ran away a bit with this. I hope you’ll excuse me. Xx

They don’t say it. Not just because it’s terribly mortal. Love was not a part of their language, not just between the two of them, but between their kind.

Lust, greed, envy, and all of the other deadly sins were things they understood. So was respect. Faustus respected his parents, but love was a foreign concept. That was not something he felt, nor was it a prized emotion amongst their community. Love potions made fools of witches and warlocks alike. Faustus was no fool. If anything, Faustus was dedicated. He had devoted himself to the Dark Lord and that relationship amongst all others was placed in the highest honor. Faustus didn’t love the Dark Lord, that’s not what He wanted. Therefore, the emotion itself was foreign, and from what he could tell amongst the mortals, it almost always weakened them and became their downfall.

Love had never entered the equation with Zelda. The day he had seen her at The Academy was the day he knew he had to have her. He coveted her. When she turned her head to meet his gaze and her eyes pierced him, he knew there would be no one else for him.

Lust he understood. Zelda seemed as if she were made by Satan himself as not only a gift to Faustus but as a punishment as well. He could think of no other who rivaled her in beauty, intelligence, power, and loyalty. She was by far and away the most exquisite creature he had ever known, and the most lovely opponent. No one had driven him as mad as she did, with her skill at languages and translating. She ripped his work to shreds with a red pen in hand, and the sheer joy it brought her was enough to make Faustus both angry and incredibly turned on.

When they finally married, love had no place in their vows. They were committed and devoted and mostly Faustus thought, “Mine.” The look in Zelda’s eyes mirrored his and he knew she thought the same thing.

Pressing Zelda into their martial bed, or really any place within the Blackwood estate had never become boring. Her sighs, her moans, the fire in her eyes, her breasts bouncing in conjunction with his thrusts, the blood red smirk at her mouth as she met him thrust for thrust, were never tiring. He could, and would, spend lifetimes with her. 

The first moment he ever suspected his feelings for her resembled anything close to love, as far as he knew it, was when Zelda’s delicate lily-white hand slipped into his at his mother’s funeral. The funeral in which Zelda herself took care of. Pouring over scripture to be read, hymns sung by the choir, and all travel arrangements. She swept in and took care of everything for Faustus, without him even asking. Her knowing and quiet support led him to believe somewhere deep inside of him that maybe, just maybe this was what love was. 

The years trailed on and he found himself feeling something indescribable. As if his heart almost swelled when upon waking and he saw her asleep on his chest. She had slowly drifted to his side of the bed after sex, and even not. Her body invariably curled up to him every night, and her auburn-blonde locks were the first thing he saw upon waking. She curled up to him in his wingback chair in the study, even though she had regularly preferred sitting in hers. Her cat-like trailing after him and need to get close only made him happier than ever. He had seen married couples go the other way entirely. So he was more than pleased to have Zelda curling into his lap for petting. 

Sharing coffee in the mornings before both leaving for work, him for the Academy, her for her midwifery practice, had become routine and yet never boring. Zelda still slashed his work with glee every morning and handedly beat him at the crossword. Faustus never minded, only smiled at her laughter and arched eyebrow. Though more often than not, she was also late for her morning appointments after Faustus couldn’t help but press her back into the kitchen table. 

And now that the summer solstice was around the corner, Faustus found himself loathe to have her leave. She had done this for centuries, and for years while they were married and yet, this year it was different. Something had shifted within him, and he couldn’t imagine not waking up with her splayed across his chest, tending to the garden side by side, sharing their morning coffee and pulling kisses from her lips. He had guessed it was love. The loss of her, even for a week, left him feeling utterly bereft. 

And so the month leading up to her leaving he had tried in a million different ways to express himself, though he found he could never voice the thought. He couldn’t bear what it would feel like if Zelda didn’t reciprocate. He lingered over her. He spent more time with her, away from his duties at the Academy and with the church. Breakfasts became longer, drinks in the study turned heated, quickly, more than they had usually. And he tried to pour his feelings into her with more care and tenderness than he had ever shown in bed. He hoped she could feel how he felt. How much he needed her, how much he would miss her, and how much he loved her, though he couldn’t say the words.

He had even booked a trip to Europe after her return. He knew she would feel even more treasured considering they were both terribly busy with work and that he would set it all aside and he had worked it out with Hilda.

And then she left for solstice. The longest day of the year without his wife by his side felt more lonely than usual. Burying himself in work didn’t help, communicating by witching boards did little to alleviate him. He missed her presence, her whole being.

He was elated upon her return though she seemed tired from the journey. She had always been in demand to lead solstice rituals, especially as now the High Priest’s wife, but also a midwife. Her days were busy with fertility rites and visiting witches from other covens. 

Soon it seemed though that her tiredness did not give way, days had passed, and she seemed unlike herself. She would go to bed before Faustus, skipping drinks in the library. Leave before him for work, his papers untouched by her angry red slashing of marks, no wry eyebrows. Essentially no her.

A week had passed, and then another, and finally Faustus felt as though his heart was ripping in two. Zelda, forever passionate and lively, had been ghost-like. 

He managed to catch her resting quietly in the study. The windows were open, a breeze blowing the curtains inward, and he found Zelda asleep on the sofa. He sat on the ottoman in front of her. Her pallor stood out against the black of her slip. He longed to touch her and he found he couldn’t help himself as his hand slipped into hers. 

He pressed a kiss to her hand and she stirred a little. A small smile crossed her face. Faustus felt relieved somewhat, though still concerned by her recent absence, demeanor, and her pallor. 

His face must have registered as much as she slid a hand against his cheek, “What’s wrong?”

He smiled a tight smile, “I could ask you the same thing.”

She remained quiet, her eyes slightly steely considering him and his words.

He squeezed her hand, “I am concerned about my wife.”

She looked down at their hands, and made no motion to move or speak. 

“Tell me. Are you ill? Should I fetch Hilda?”

And very faintly he added, “Are you seeing someone else?” Too fearful to give the words full volume and meaning. 

Her eyes lit up at him, full of fire. She looked more like herself than she had in recent weeks. An amused smirk crossed her face. “What would be worse for you? Ill or someone else?”

“Ill, at least I know you’d be fine if it were someone else. But I don’t find it funny. Talk to me.”

She sat up, tentatively, and took great care in arranging the skirt of her slip. She fussed with her hair, and fidgeted with her rings. Zelda Spellman, in all the years he had known her, was not a nervous witch. She had always been forthright and this sudden shift unnerved him.

Faustus kept his hands on his knees in an effort to not reach out and calm her motions. He had waited weeks, and so what was another moment or two?

“I…” She started to speak, looking at her hands, and then stilled them. She looked up at him, “I...don’t know how to say it.”

He had guessed it wasn’t someone else, she would have been clear about it, he realizes now. Her knees are touching his and he reaches out and places a hand against hers, and another at her cheek.

“Zelda, I love you. You can tell me anything.”

Zelda isn’t a known crier, he’s seen her tear up over the years. She’s emotional, though she doesn’t want anyone to know. He’s only caught her a handful of times actually crying, though she’d deny it until the day she died. But now as tears stream down her face, only inches away from his, his heart clenches and he feels himself stricken.

He brushes some tears from her face and she looks at him, she’s smiling though still crying. She rolls her eyes but he can tell she’s mad at her reaction completely, and it’s not at all to do with him.

“I tried to tell you, but I could never find the right words…” She trails off.

Faustus remains quiet, and she continues, “I didn’t know how best to tell you that I’m pregnant.”

And it’s then, that moment, that feels like a complete relief and joy. He feels as though he’s never been happier, or never truly smiled until now. 

“Truly?” He asks and she smiles back at him.

She nods, “If I had known this would be your reaction I would have told you earlier.”

“Zelda, I meant it. You can tell me anything.”

He brings his lips to kiss her hand, and she sighs. “We never spoke of it. Ever. For decades. I thought it wasn’t for us, and then it happened.”

“Are you happy?” He was concerned given her pallor and mood these past several weeks. Maybe this isn’t something she wanted.

She nods, her voice catches as she says, “Yes. I am. My concern was that didn’t know how to tell you.”

He leans forward and kisses her, and she responds in kind. She feels and tastes like the Zelda he’s always known. She breaks the kiss slowly, and whispers against his lips, “I love you too, Faustus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send me prompts at SpellwoodManor on Tumblr. Xx


	7. Former Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — A former flame of Faustus's comes to town and Zelda isn't having it. She doesn't raise a fuss because she doesn't want to show Faustus how jealous she really is. But that doesn't stop her from using every trick in the "Book of Faustus" to keep his attention on her.
> 
> Again, I’m so terrible and run away with these prompts. My brain can’t help it. I hope you enjoy it! Xx

Zelda doesn’t consider herself an envious person. She’s more in for greed. She has everything at her disposal: beauty, intelligence, power, money, but she wants. Often, more. More than she’s allotted. But she’s now in a position where she wants no more. A contentment has settled over her through the years. The extreme want has died away. Sure, she will want for things but it’s usually small, insignificant, or something resolved that day. Large wants are a thing of the past.

Which is why she finds herself surprised by her sudden change in both want and envy. As she met with Sabrina for coffee in her office (tea for Sabrina) to go over her latest translation homework, she almost spills her espresso when Sabrina mentions the name, “Genevieve Laurent.” A name she’s not heard in decades, maybe centuries.

Zelda, who had been focused on reading Sabrina’s work, stilled herself and recovered gracefully. Her eyes quirked up at Sabrina’s. “How do you know Genevieve Laurent?” She asks softly, trying not to give anything away.

“I ran into her outside of Faustus’s office. She was just leaving and he introduced me.” Zelda suddenly feels as though she might faint, her heart is pounding within her chest.

She manages an, “Oh?” 

And Sabrina, bless her, none the wiser, continues on. Detailing how Genevieve was a student at the Academy back in the day and that she and Faustus were old friends. And how she even remembers Zelda. Of course she did, thought Zelda.

Zelda tries to focus once more on Sabrina’s work but finds the page blurry in front of her. She’s not sure if it’s pure rage and envy but she guesses as much.

She’s not heard the name Genevieve in ages, and she’s certainly never spoken with Faustus about her. But she assumes that they both understood why. Zelda had left for Europe at the behest of her family, and Faustus suddenly found himself a new girlfriend. Fresh from France, too beautiful and too smart for her own good. Much like Zelda. As if she had been that easy to replace. They were together for years, all the time Zelda was away. She’s surprised they never married, but then again, she’s surprised she and Faustus never married.

Even though he has now asked her time and time again. She’s said no for one reason or another and now she’s suddenly upset she’s not marked him hers. She never worried about it ever before this moment. They were both incredibly voracious in their appetites but it died down once they got back together several years ago. He didn’t even glance at other witches.

Even Sabrina started liking Faustus, which had seemed an impossible task. And now, Zelda wishes he were bound to her and her only. A ring even, anything.

But now with Genevieve in town she knew Faustus’s attention could be turned. She had been the only other witch that she was actually threatened by. She had no reason to ever worry about Faustus before now but as she considered it she found her heart sank a bit thinking that he might stray. They had never discussed monogamy, it wasn’t necessarily for witches, but as far as she knew, they both had been faithful.

As she sat in silence looking over Sabrina’s work and Sabrina somehow taking a hint and reading through her books, she realized that she would just have to play harder. Even if Genevieve was making a move, or not. Her desire to hold Faustus’s attention on her was suddenly all she cared about at this moment.

Study time with Sabrina came to an end, and Zelda quickly teleported home for a quick change. Her lingerie collection had always been exquisite and surprising but she switched to a deadly combination of black lace and silk. Far more see-through than her previous set. She laid out a bodysuit for this evening’s festivities and smirked at herself in the mirror as she reapplied her lipstick.

She popped back to the Academy and as she was coming up with an excuse of seeing Faustus in the middle of the day, she caught a glimpse of Genevieve leaving the library, books in hand. She had not changed in the years since she’s seen her, although it had been briefly. But her photo adorned various walls for Academy awards, just beside Zelda’s. Her hair was still styled as if she were Catherine Deneuve in the 60s, half-up, with a bow. She appeared to be everything Zelda wasn’t, though Zelda knew better. There would be no attraction on Faustus’s part if she weren’t deadly in some way other than looks and intelligence. She looked almost sweet, saccharine in the photos next to Zelda’s. 

Zelda managed to avoid her and lost in thought she made her way to Faustus’s office, turning down corridor after corridor and bumping into someone. She murmured her apologies and looked up to see it had been Faustus. He wore a smirk on his face, “Going somewhere, Miss Spellman?” She suddenly forgot her made-up excuse to see him.

“Were you?” She asked. His hands were still on her hips and he tightened them as she asked.

“I was on my way to see you actually. And here you are.” He bent his head and pressed a kiss to her lips.

She poured as much as she could into the kiss, happy to have his lips smothering her thoughts. It had been enough to dispel her now apparent concern that Genevieve already sunk her claws into him. Kissing in the middle of the hallway during school hours was not something they normally did, sure, in someone’s office or an unpopular stack in the library, but here, certainly not. Though Zelda found she didn’t mind at all. Faustus’s grip grew harder at her waist and another hand quickly unbuttoned her jacket. She pulled away, as if she minded completely, though she was taken with his desire. 

Her voice was low, “Faustus, it’s the middle of the hallway. Anyone could see us.” 

“Don’t run the full length of your body into me looking like that.” He smirked and groaned as he pulled off her jacket. Black lace had been the correct choice. He pushed her against the wall and picked her up, hiking her skirt up. “Satan, Zelda,” he whispered as he found she wasn’t wearing anything beneath her skirt. “I hope to Lucifer you were looking for me when I found you.”

“Only you,” she whispered. Unable to help herself, and she hoped it served as a reminder to him. He dropped his trousers and pushed into her. Her arms were thrown across his shoulders and she pressed her mouth against his neck to muffle her cries as he fucked her against the wall.

It was far too rushed for her liking, and clearly his. As they both came down from their orgasms, Faustus held Zelda stock-still against the wall, loathe to leave. He pressed another kiss to her lips, and helped her down. They redressed silently, and Zelda waved a hand over them to erase any signs of impropriety that were surely obvious. Mussed hair, pillowy and bruised lips, smeared lipstick, though she did leave the marks on Faustus’s neck. It was the least she could do.

She smirked as she looked at them, and remembered at last why she had been there. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?” They had plans almost every night of the week minus the one evening a week when she dined with the family, sans Faustus. 

He smiled, “Always,” and with that he offered his arm and she accepted it as he walked her to what was her next class. 

“Why were you coming to see me? Aside from this.” She motioned between them and smiled.

He looked like he has truly forgotten, “Oh, yes. Genevieve Laurent is in town.” 

Zelda forced her face to remain neutral, even though she wanted to roll her eyes at his mention of her last name. As if there were another Genevieve in their orbit. 

Thankfully he continued, “Her father has died and so there will be a funeral after mass. Could you pick something for the choir to sing?”

She nodded, “Of course,” and with that he kissed her goodbye.

—————

As evening set in Zelda became less concerned about Genevieve as a threat but more concerned by her reaction to it all. As if her very presence forced Zelda to consider her relationship with Faustus. Faustus had not given her any reason over the years that he wanted anyone other than her. He had not hidden away the fact that Genevieve was visiting, even introducing Sabrina, though Zelda knows he could have stopped time and saved her from meeting her at all, if something had happened.

He had stayed, and so had Zelda because they wanted to. It certainly didn’t hurt that Zelda could, and would, pull out all of the stops to remind him just who she was to him. But she also wanted him to feel who he was to her. 

—

She knew he would be busy wrapping up at the Academy so she let herself into his house, enjoying the feeling of the wards recognizing her, and welcoming her. As if she were home.

The dress she had picked was rather tame, though silk, it belied what was underneath. She went to his bedroom, and lingered over the drawer where she knew he kept her engagement ring. He had asked her or tried to bring up marriage with her more times than she can count. She had never considered it was for them, until today. Until she had to take stock of their future, and how much she wanted it.

She lingered over the drawer, and in a quick instant, decided to open it. The delicate velvet box popped open and inside rested his mother’s engagement ring. Zelda had seen it on Lady Blackwood’s delicate hand for years until one day she wore it no longer. The large diamond sparkled in the low light of the bedroom and Zelda found herself compelled to wear it. She slipped it on, just to see it and marveled at it. It looked right on her hand she thought. She knew she should have accepted Faustus’s proposal ages ago, and she would do so tonight. 

She had things to do so she slipped off the ring. Or, rather, tried to, but it wouldn’t budge. There was no issue with sliding it on but now it wouldn’t move at all. She guessed it was an enchantment, too clever for its own good, but certainly not how she expected this evening to go. She had too much to do to sit and try to break the spell before Faustus arrived home. 

She moved to the fireplace and threw a fire into the grate, she placed flowers around the house, and stood at the bar mixing ice cold cocktails for them. Champagne would follow.

Faustus slipped through the door and in her excitement to see him forgot about the ring on her finger and greeted him. She took his hat, coat, and scarf and placed them into the coat closet. He looked amused at her fussing over him as she led him into the library. She pressed the ice cold drink into his hand as he took a seat in front of the fire. If he noticed the ring, he remained silent. She took a sip of her drink and placed it on the mantle before kneeling before him. Her hands on his thighs, taking her nails over them. Faustus leaned down to kiss her, he tasted like ice cold gin. Her plan had been foiled, she imagined herself kneeling before him with his cock in her mouth, she almost groaned at the thought, when Faustus pulled her up to his lap.

She laid back as Faustus almost cradled her and deepening a kiss he had laid at her mouth. Her hands instinctively pulled at his shirt, trying to hold him as close to her as possible. When he pulled away he smiled at her, and his eyes glimmered.

He moved for her left hand. Ah, so he had noticed.

She sighed, “Faustus, I tried. I tried to take it off a thousand times while I was getting things ready. Nothing worked. It’s stuck.”

He laughed at her explanation and her seemingly distraught state, “It won’t come off, Zelda. Ever. And frankly, I like seeing it on you”

“But, it has to. It doesn’t make any sense. Your mother wore it until one day she didn’t.”

He smiles a tight smile, “She wore it, until I asked her for it.”

Zelda looks at the ring sparkling in the light from the fireplace. She tries to pull it off again, without success. She’s furious. “Take it off.”

Faustus had not proposed to her in their youth, it had only become something in recent years and now she feels as if she’s wearing the ring meant for Genevieve. That her insecurities have risen up all in one day against her. 

She squirms in Faustus’s arms but he holds her tightly against him. “Zelda, it will not come off because it is yours. It is meant for you.”

“It isn’t. Your mother stopped wearing her ring a century ago. I remember. It’s not mine, it wasn’t meant for me.” She continues to try to pull it off, trying to calm her mind to think of spells to break the enchantment. She’s close to crying, this is not how she envisioned the evening.

Faustus stilled her hands with his. He brought another one up to her cheek and she looked at him only begrudgingly, not quite ready to face him in her embarrassment and tears.

“Zelda, you misunderstand. All of it. My mother stopped wearing this ring because I asked for it so I could propose to you. It’s the only way it would come off, it’s a Blackwood heirloom and has been passed down for centuries. The only way it works is if it’s given with pure intent, and the only way the enchantment works is if the one receiving it feels the same. It’s a true love spell.” He adds ever so softly to the end. “It would have fallen off of your finger and would never stay on if you hadn’t felt the same.”

Zelda tries to look away from Faustus as the realization hits her. Of the history of it all. She looks at the ring and sighs.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you ask me all those years ago?” She shakes her head.

“Because I asked your brother for your hand and he said no. And before I could regather my courage to ask you directly, you left for Europe.”

“But Genevieve…” she trailed off. Still consumed with Faustus’s past love affair despite what the ring had revealed. What she still had not come to terms with.

Faustus pressed a kiss to Zelda’s lips. He smiled, “She was my friend after you left, and she was sent here for a similar reason that you left. Her father was unhappy with her love affair back home and sent her here. We mostly provided cover for one another so as to not be bombarded with interested witches and wizards. If you’re concerned about Genevieve, don’t be. She’s not my type. Nor am I hers.”

“But you’re both so attractive,” Zelda couldn’t help herself.

Faustus laughed, “But Genevieve’s wife is so much prettier than me, my dear.” 

Zelda felt incredibly dumb, for her current worry and for all of her past anxiety tied up with Faustus and Genevieve. 

She lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. For all of it. It’s not how I expected this evening to go.”

He snakes a hand up her dress, his hand meeting only the slightest resistance in a piece of lace. He shakes his head, “Don’t be. I love you, Zelda. I always have.”

“But why didn’t you tell me about the ring, the enchantment? Why did you wait all of those years?” He lays her back again in his arms, and spreads her legs apart with his hands.

“Because Zelda Spellman doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do.” His fingers slip under the lace and glides a finger across her wet entrance. 

She spreads her legs wider, hating how true that is about her.

His fingers become more knowing, more direct, creating more pressure within her, and she’s on the edge, so close to her orgasm. She’s grasping Faustus’s hair, holding him close to her, breathing him in and placing kisses at his neck when she’s not too busy breathing heavily and repeating his name. With one more thrust and swipe of his fingers, she comes underneath him. He’s staring down at her like she’s the most wonderful thing in the world. She’s surprised it’s taken her this long to see it.

When her breathing returns to normal, she brings her hand to his cheek, “I love you, Faustus.”

He moves a strand of hair from her face, “I love you too, Zelda.”

She considers their position, “This wasn’t my plan for this evening. I had so much more planned.”

Faustus quirks an eyebrow, “I’d say that declaring our love for one another and getting engaged is enough for one evening.”

“I hadn’t planned on that. I had planned on pulling out every trick in the book to make you stay, and not leave me for Genevieve.” Her hands play with the buttons at his neck, nipping his skin between words.

She sits up and straddles his lap. “Every trick in the book?” he questions.

“Yes,” she whispers against his ear, and she feels his cock stirring below her. She leans back ever so slightly. “Whispering filthy thoughts against your ear, teasing you relentlessly until you beg me to fuck you, and riding you until you can’t possibly come anymore.”

Faustus groans at her words and also smirks, “That’s /every/ trick?”

She shrugs, “More or less. You’re an easy target. There’s massage thrown in, some lingerie, your cock in my mouth, letting you tie me up for once.” She smirks.

His hands at her hips roll her across his cock. “It’s not too late for any of that. We do have much to celebrate.” 

“That we do.” And with that she places open mouthed kisses on Faustus’s bare chest. Genevieve Laurent the furthest thing from her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send all of your prompts to SpellwoodManor on Tumblr. Xx


	8. Private Lives — The News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from missxzeldaspellman on Tumblr — Zelda finding out she is pregnant in the 'Private Lives' universe?
> 
> — This only makes sense if you’ve read Private Lives.

She feels it deep within her bones, her mind hasn’t caught up to the idea. So she ignores it. She refrains from picking up her ever-present cigarette, refrains from her espresso but that’s all she can do for now. There’s too much to do, too much to plan for, and she cannot entertain the thought at the moment.

A baby. Hers. Theirs. After all these years, but now at a moment in turmoil. Of course Faustus ruined this for her as well.

She knows the signs but more than anything, she feels it to be true. She’s unsure if it’s her new powers now that she’s High Priestess. In the rare quiet moment that she tries to rest after the wake in which Faustus left, she found herself alone in her bedroom with her hand instinctively caressing her still-flat abdomen. 

She tells herself that tomorrow she will confront it. Tomorrow she will confirm that there’s a Blackwood growing within her. And then it’s tomorrow, and then another tomorrow, and then another. 

She’s avoiding Hilda’s gaze when she passes on her espresso in the morning, and her nightcap with her. As if Hilda can’t read the signs or her mind. Bless her sister for giving her space, for once in her life.

As High Priestess, Zelda meets with Lilith regularly to reform the church, to ask for advice, to find a path forward. As they finish their meeting, Lilith, in the familiar form of Mary Wardwell, places a hand over Zelda’s.

She knows. It’s all it took. Lilith, so unlike the Dark Lord, feels familiar, feels comforting. Though she’s not prayed to either aloud or in her mind on this matter, Lilith knows. She smiles tightly at Zelda, slightly unsure how to proceed. Both women were powerful, and held their emotions close, so this moment was new for them. They had previously been all business.

“The Dark Lord before me answered a prayer, from both of you. Both you and Faustus made the same prayer, at the same time. During a holy holiday. A wanted baby is a blessing. Do not let recent events make you think otherwise. You have shown more love, loyalty, and care than anyone else I’ve seen. Not just to your family, but to the coven. This is a happy occasion, and the baby is part of the new foundation of the Church.” 

Lilith covered Zelda’s hand with her own very briefly, as tears fell silently on Zelda’s cheek. She quickly swiped them away, let out a breath she had not realized she was holding. Zelda closed her eyes as she whispered a “thank you.” It was all she could say in the wake of Lilith’s words. They had done more to help her than Lilith herself could realize. When Zelda opened her eyes, Lilith had disappeared. Just like that. Zelda grinned a bit. They both had a long way to go with emotions but she was thankful nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this took me ages and ages to update. I am working on the stories, and in order. I’ve just been a wee bit busy. Thank you to everyone who has sent in prompts. You’re the best. All of you. Xx
> 
> Incredible thanks to everyone who takes the time to read this, leave kudos, saves a bookmark, and leaves a comment. It makes my heart glad. Xx


	9. Blush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Faustus discovers that Zelda enjoys to be held and loved, but won’t ever admit it.
> 
> Sorry for the delay, and warning, pure fluff ahead.

Faustus is used to punishment. Or rather, doling it out. Lashing Zelda’s back, however, was different. Even in the little game they played, it had been quite contrived. He had regularly cheated on Constance without needing a smokescreen of penance but now in the face of her death and that of his unborn children, he’s found he needed /something/ to hide behind. He was spending far more time away from both his duties at the Academy and the Church. And yet, it was exactly what he wanted.

So to find himself buried deep within her yet again is no surprise whatsoever. He wants more though, and that’s always been the issue. He wants. Zelda is the same. She’s as greedy as he is in bed and out of it. Which, he thinks, has always been part of the attraction. Like calls to like.

The problem at hand though is after these lashings, they’re on edge and he’s not enough of a masochist (is he getting soft in his old age?) to press Zelda’s bloody and stripped back against the hard surface of his desk. But he wants to see her. It’s been far too much to bury himself deep within her and hear her moans and cries from his ministrations and not see the look on her face as she comes. He’s seen it before, and it’s all he wants.

He’s pumping in and out of her at a quicker pace, his blood is boiling and sending him over, but he slows down to almost a stop as his hands ghost over the torn flesh of her back. He lightly whispers an incantation and Zelda turns her head to look at him in a murderous rage. She had been close. He smirks, and smacks the flesh of her ass with a sharp blow as her back becomes as unblemished and as creamy as the rest of her skin. 

He pulls out entirely, but he felt Zelda’s inner walls tighten as much as much as they could to keep him within her. “Patience, my dear.” She flushes a slight shade of red at the pet name, which is easy to tell when she’s not wearing a stitch of clothing. He’s not quite sure where the nickname came from but he now wants to see even more. 

Zelda isn’t one to flush, she doesn’t get easily embarrassed. He’s seen her in enough compromising positions, mostly with himself, to know that nothing gets to her, and she’s as voracious a slut as he is. 

She turns to stand up from her bent over position over his desk, and pulls him to her in a kiss. Her mouth is demanding, and possibly demanding to know why he’s still not buried within her. She could have been screaming out her orgasm at this very moment.

He pulls away and brushes her cheek with his hand, “I wanted to see you as I fucked you. Wanted to see just how beautiful this face looks in the throes of an orgasm that your High Priest bestowed upon you.” There’s the blush again, and now he finds that it’s all he wants to do. To chase down the excitement of seeing it. They aren’t tender with one another, and yet it seems as though Zelda responds entirely differently by it.

It’s not a burning hot heat like he stokes when he’s punishing her. This one is warm, and dare he admit how terribly easy it is to rein down compliments on her. How beautiful she looks when she’s blushing. He wishes to see her bask more in it.

He brushes his finger over her lips, and her tongue moves to lick it oh so slowly. She moved her head and sucks on his finger, looking up at him through her lashes. Her other hand is resting on his chest and soon she starts to caress his skin, stopping over his various tattoos. 

Their height difference is less noticeable at the moment, she’s still in heels thankfully. Faustus’s cock is brushing against her hip as he stands so close to her. She lets his finger go with a pop and moves both hands to his back, as far as she can reach. She whispers the same incantation he had and he can feel the fresh skin stretching across his back. He smirks at her and lifts her up in his arms.

They teleport directly into his bedroom at his family home, away from prying eyes (and ears) at the Academy. Faustus lays her on the bed below him and caresses her skin ever so slowly. He’s effectively paused where they were but he’s now fully able to look at her completely, just as he wanted to. She breaks his reverie with a, “Please,” and her voice is still clouded with lust. He leans down to capture her lips with his and sheathes himself inside her at the same moment. She moans underneath him.

Everything, since they started this all over again, had been rushed. It’s been formal, sneaking away in the confessional, under the guise of holy rituals. But now she’s splayed before him on his bed calling out his name, and he finds he never wants her to leave. The pretense of it is all too much, he should have what he wants, and what he wants is Zelda Spellman. No more guise of religious worship. The fire in her eyes says she wants more too. And yet he doesn’t think he would have noticed it before.

If she has moaned as erotically as she is now, he doesn’t remember it. And he thinks he would remember. He’s whispering against her skin a litany of compliments, peppered between kisses. This is nothing related to the fast and quick and rough they’ve been recently. 

“Satan, Zelda, you have no idea just how beautiful you are.” He knows that she thinks she does, but the sight of her body blushing below him at his compliment is nothing he’s seen before this tryst. She won’t be as lucky as him. Zelda is forever vain, and apparently any compliment elicits a moan, or a blush, or a smile, or her body clenching around him unable to help itself. 

The roughness of their usual get togethers has always set him aflame but this is something else entirely. Her body and temperament is entirely different at his little declarations as opposed to the whips, restraints, and hard press of her against anything. Zelda Spellman, despite her exterior and seemingly lust for roughness, enjoys his compliments, soft touches, and warm embrace. Faustus wonders if she’s even aware, if any lover of hers before him has ever been this way with her. It buoys him to think that he’s the only person who has discovered this about her. A little secret for him alone.

He flips them over, with her rocking back and forth on top of him. Her pace is slow and his eyes are burning into her. The room is hot and it feels hard to breath in the thick air, full of her perfume and the heat pouring off of them. A small bead of sweat drips down from her neck and Faustus leans forward to capture it with his mouth. He adjusts himself so she’s still atop him but sitting in his lap a little more. His hands are at her hips, moving with her body rocking against him. “That’s it, my darling.” A small noise rattles in the back of her throat at his words. 

Her arms are thrown across his neck, so little, if any at all space between them. Her breasts are pressed to his chest, and their bodies become slicker still with their exertions. Faustus brings a hand between them and as his finger ghost across her, she cries out. “Yes, come for me, my dear.” He can feel her walls clenching around him tighter and tighter. She’s breathlessly crying out his name, her mouth just beside his ear. It’s all it takes for his orgasm to tear through him. His arms snake around behind her back to hold her as close to him as he can. 

The only sound in the room is them breathing hard to catch their breaths. She pulls away to leave but Faustus’s arms hold her to him still. She always makes the first move, never wanting to overstay her welcome, or cause suspicion as to where the two of them are at any given moment.

But he keeps a hold of her, classes had been out for hours. Surely she was due home, but having her in his arms outweighed everything else. He leaned back against the headboard and adjusted so that she was effectively laying on top of him. She brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn and slowly she fell asleep as Faustus pet her hair. 

He doesn’t know how long they slept but she’s still tangled up with him, and had it not been for his arm asleep he would have stayed stockstill to watch her sleep. It’s a rare thing to watch her so unguarded and she looks just as she had all those years ago at the Academy. He moves an arm ever so slightly, and she wakes. Her voice is quieter than normal, less of an edge, and she’s quick to stand as if she hadn’t completely snuggled herself into Faustus’s side. “I should go. My family will wonder where I am.”

Faustus smirks at her and looks outside at the moon high in the sky, he grabs her hand as she’s looking for her clothes, “Zelda, it’s two in the morning. Everyone is asleep. No one is up wondering about your whereabouts, come back to bed, my dear.” 

She looks at their joined hands and smiles ever so lightly and crawls back into bed. She remains firmly on her side and her side of the bed, and Faustus wishes she would give up the pretense of it all. His hand grips her waist and pulls her into him, and when they’re skin to skin once more she’s slightly stiff in his arms. Possibly conscious that this is the first full night they’ve spent together in years, that they shouldn’t be doing this, that in the course of mere hours, it’s completely different. But for Faustus, he’s now fully aware that little declarations go far. He brings his hand down to caress back and forth on her arm, and trails up her neck. She settles more into him. He nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck, places a kiss there, and whispers, “Goodnight, my darling.” And there it is again, a slight blush upon her skin before they both drift off again.

—————

They wake again, and it’s morning. She’s still pressed against him and as she wakes she distances herself as much as she can in the shared bed. Faustus finds himself amused at all of it. She swings her legs over the side of the bed and looks out of the large picture window. Faustus moves closer to her and rests his chin on her shoulder looking out as well. The sun is breaking and deer are grazing on the grounds outside. 

“Now I really must leave,” her crisp voice is back in place, ready for the day. She stands and remembers her clothes aren’t here, they’re still in his office, all she has are shoes. She sighs and Faustus rises. He hands her a shirt of his, “Do you really expect me to wear this? Everyone will know where I’ve been.”

“So?” He shrugs and she’s given up entirely as he begins to button his shirt on her. He stops as he gets to her chest, he places a kiss at her clavicle and buttons the rest of the way to the top. She’s looking at him as if he’s gone mad and he’s enjoyed playing with her completely. Though he finds he’s actually not playing. What became a little theory and test was now complete and done and he enjoyed getting under her skin and seeing her react. React to a different mood, a different touch, a different situation.

She looks at him quizzically and he pulls her in for a quick kiss. She pulls away after a moment and disappears. He’s smiling in her wake.

—————

He spots her later in the hallway at the Academy. It’s late morning, past several classes, and she’s holding what looks like sheet music as she walks down the hall. She’s wearing a tight black dress in classic Zelda fashion, with tiny buttons all along her back. Faustus itches to touch them, peel the dress from her body and touch her cool to the touch skin. But he knows it would be too easy, too easy to slip back into their routine after last night’s and this morning’s progress.

He walks quickly to catch up with her, she’s still absorbed in reading and he slips a hand into hers. She’s quick with a curse, luckily Faustus has prepared himself and was faster. “What are you doing?” She hisses at him. “Someone could see.” Her voice is low and deadly. She looks angry but again the blush is back. He smiles.

She slips her hand from his and looks around. “Have you gone mad? I thought last night was an anomaly but you’re acting rather absurd still. Someone could see us, and frankly, I don’t need more enemies in the coven, Faustus. They already whisper.”

He smiles at her anger and backs her into a wall, students are in class and it’s just the two of them now. His voice is low as he presses himself against her. “Let them talk. I’m the High Priest, if they take issue with who I’m with then they won’t like the repercussions by my hand.” 

“But Constance…” and Faustus cuts her off with a kiss. Zelda presses her nails into his chest and lightly pushes him from her. Her eyes are still questioning. “What’s changed?”

He grins at her confusion. He leans in, his lips close to her ear, “I learned that Zelda Spellman responds entirely differently to tenderness than to pain and pleasure combined.” His hands are at her hips holding her in place between him and the wall. “I learned that Zelda Spellman blushes, of all things, at tenderness, and gentle caresses, and endearments.” 

She scoffs, “I do not,” her eyes are ablaze and Faustus is tempted to match her fire. Instead he holds her face in his hands, “Oh but you do, my darling. You’re even blushing now, I doubt you’re aware. Your whole body gives you away, just like last night.” His hands slide down her face and he captures her hands in his once more. “Tell me, how differently last night felt? How much more heady and aroused you were? How differently the room felt? And how well you slept in my arms?” 

She looks offended, called out. She never made things easy. Her hands slipped from his and she walked away, as haughtily as she could.

And yet there she was again at the end of the day, sighing into his kisses, more tender than he thought possible. And then there she was the next and the next. And nights caught up in his arms. And even, one day, her hand slipped into his, and not the other way around. She would never speak about it, give voice to the change, or the now permanence in their relationship. 

He loved how stubborn she was, how she would never admit how much she loved to be loved and held. Faustus found that he, too, loved the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thank yous to everyone who has sent in prompts, leaves kudos, and comments, and reads these stories. 
> 
> SpellwoodManor on Tumblr. Xx


	10. A Caning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one just popped into my head, no prompt. I hope you like it.

The crack of his cane against her ass made too lovely a sound as it was followed by Zelda’s desperate cries. She likes to be wound up and punished before Faustus takes her to bed. 

He smirks at the red marks against her pale flesh. If it had been up to him they would have stopped this years ago, there had been no point to even start. But Zelda isn’t that kind of witch or woman.

As he cracks his cane against her again, and her flesh bounces with the impact, he grips a cheek in his hand. She groans as he touches her heated flesh and he can’t help but press himself, albeit fully clothed, against her. She grinds back against him. He’s about to bring down the cane again when he smiles at the faint inscription along the handle.

You’d think, and you’d be right, that it had been completely about appearances. A gentleman of Faustus’s stature would have a cane and all of the trappings of being a gentlemen in his time period. That was certainly true, but the cane, however, was real.

The limp in his leg had been with him for nearly as long as Zelda has. The two, of course, are related. The problem with Zelda, and the only one, had been her brother. Faustus had never been good enough for Zelda, according to Edward. Though Faustus found them well-suited, and was of the opinion that Zelda’s thoughts on the matter were in fact, all that mattered.

So when Edward stormed down Faustus’s office to confront him after he had asked for Zelda’s hand in marriage, and then proceeded to date her despite his protestations, he had caught then in quite a precarious position. Zelda had been perched atop his desk like a delicious confection, ready to eat, and indeed he had been. 

Zelda had turned at the intrusion, and became even more incensed at Edward’s invasion. Faustus, still fully dressed, moved to stand between them. He knew Zelda could protect herself but he was anxious to have Edward leave and save Zelda some modesty. Though he knows now that it’s truly the least of her concerns.

Faustus had been caught between flying curses and all hit Edward, save one. One in which he managed to rebound. The surprise on Faustus’s face as the curse hit him was not the strength of it, he had never underestimated Zelda, but rather the fact that Edward managed to rebound anything whatsoever. So as he fell to the ground and his surroundings becoming blurry, he let out a laugh, or so Zelda told him later.

It wasn’t a problem, but had you asked Zelda herself she would unwaveringly tell you it was — was that Zelda was far more powerful than anyone had given her credit for. Her curses hit and cut and when she cast something she meant it. Curses were her speciality, and unfortunately, countercurses were not. 

In the hours, the days, the weeks that followed, Zelda sat beside Faustus. She poured over books, texts, spells, and tried her hand at every potion and remedy she could think of to heal Faustus’s leg. His left leg was completely useless, it looked as it always had and yet he had no feeling in it and certainly couldn’t stand or walk. 

Zelda, not one for apologies, whispered to him when she thought he was sleeping. Edward visited him only once, and in private, without Zelda present, to give him his permission to marry Zelda. Faustus laughed in his face, he had planned on marrying her without his permission. Though now he wanted to be sure he could walk down the aisle hand in hand with his bride.

But before he could even propose, she left. One morning he woke up and instead of her soft body pressed next to his flesh, was a cane. It was sleek and chic, just like Zelda. And carved on the handle it said, “Something to lean on. — Z.”

He would have preferred her to lean on, and an explanation. She disappeared for months, no regular updates, save a postcard from a different country addressed to him with no note. He recognized her scrawl, and missed it. Missed her. He had slowly taken up walking with the cane she left, his leg had slightly improved under her care with her various remedies.

And then she returned one night, sitting beside his bed. Her face was shadowed blue in the deep night. He’s not surprised she slipped through, or, rather, his wards and his house recognized her and allowed her to enter. He has nothing in his heart but love for her, never blaming her for his sudden handicap. Her face in the days that had passed since that moment said it’s all she thought. She blamed herself and poured herself into his healing and left when she felt as if she could progress no more.

She smiled at him ever so slightly, and moved her head to the side, as if she was asking a question. He nodded. As if he could ever say no to her. 

She moved the blanket from his leg and placed her hands upon him. If she said anything he didn’t hear, too entranced with seeing her in the flesh after so many months apart. He felt his leg tingle, and then her hands upon him. She smiled completely and he bent his knee and sat up in bed. He turned to his bedside and pulled the box he had been keeping hidden all these years. 

It wasn’t the engagement he had envisioned but he was tired of waiting. He slipped the ring from its box and held it out to her, “Zelda,” and she cut him off immediately, with a kiss. She moved on top of him, deepened the kiss and finally when their lungs were aching for air did she pull away. “I missed you,” she whispered against his lips. He slipped the ring on her finger.

Eventually they both walked down the aisle and it’s the clanking of that very ring against the wood of their footboard that breaks him out of his reverie. It’s one more crack against her ass with the cane and she cries out again. She’s so close.

He slides the cane up her side, and lays it on the bed. She turns around and he pulls her in for a kiss. 

Awhile later they lay in bed with Zelda in his arms. Her hand caressing his chest. She motions towards the cane, “Why do you carry it still? After everything?” 

“Because it was a gift from you, and because I’m a pretentious asshole.” She huffs out a laugh. “I don’t have to keep carrying it, if you don’t want me to.” 

He thinks that maybe it’s an unfortunate reminder for her, though she insists on being spanked with it regularly. 

“No, it suits you. You are a pretentious asshole.” He smiles. “How does your leg feel?”

She asks him every so often. She’s now the foremost expert on curse-breaking and likes to check her handiwork. Sometimes he does feel a light pain in his leg though he doubts its a lingering effect from the curse.

“It’s been roughly a hundred years, Zelda, my leg is fine.” She runs her hand along his leg, looking for anything at all.

She smiles up at him, “I wasn’t sure how it was feeling considering how hard you were fucking your wife just moments ago.” 

He smiles to match hers. Her hand moves higher and higher. She raises her eyebrows, “So you’re not opposed to another round?”

“Never,” he whispers, and pulls her into him for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to all who read these little chapters. It’s so nice to write something and have actual people read it and sometimes like it. 
> 
> I’m making my way, albeit slowly, through prompts. Find me at SpellwoodManor on Tumblr. Xx


	11. Nemoralia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Where Faustus and Zelda are buried in work at the Academy of Unseen Arts, and haven't had one on one time in weeks. It's starting to wreck havoc on their families. Something has to be done.
> 
> As always, I took liberties. Xx

Getting ready for Nemoralia, or The Festival of the Torches had always been quite the affair. The three day festival celebrating the heavens, the earth, and the underworld were paramount to the Church of Night. In many ways the festival of Diana honored Lilith herself. Who, like Diana, was closely related to the hunt, wild animals, and fertility. Lilith had scavenged and hunted the land, befriended animals, and by Lucifer’s side, she was the female goddess the church had dedicated themselves to.

While Diana was considered in a cult as Queen of the Witches, Lilith was the Mother of Demons. Their stories had intertwined through the years and myths, legends, and deities raveled and unraveled. And so The Festival of the Torches had become a unique celebration to the Church of Night in Greendale, and thus, to the Academy.

The festival ultimately celebrated Lilith, who once walked here in Greendale before she returned to Hell to take her place beside Lucifer, but overall the festival was a celebration for the witches in the coven. For the women to enjoy and contemplate their time on Earth before they too one day joined Lucifer Hellside. 

Faustus, who had a temperamental and frustrating understanding with Lilith, had been loathe to celebrate it in years prior but with her Hellbound now, he acquiesced to tradition. Sabrina had signed the Book of the Beast, she mostly dedicated herself to the Church and the Academy. Though she still causes trouble, he leaves her in her Aunt’s capable hands. He sighs as he looks over his desk before him. Lists of things to be done before the festival, which takes place in only one days time.

Zelda herself has spearheaded the entire festival. Despite not making anything official over the course of the following months of being together, she’s still seen as the female leader of the coven. Most know of her involvement with Faustus, and by this relation, she holds power over the coven. 

He’s only caught glimpses of her the past several days. The rare moments that he sees her for longer periods of time are at meetings about the festival and they’re all business. He hopes the festival runs more smoothly every year after this year’s, considering the pains in which Zelda is going to. She remembers the festival in her Academy days and is determined to make it even more lush, reverent, and beautiful than ever. 

He thinks if he never sees another garland of flowers he will die happily. Though his heart swells upon seeing her dutifully making garlands and wreaths and pouring her heart into making the festivities as perfect as possible. His heart had not been into the festival in years past, but it warmed him knowing that Zelda, like him, wanted everything to be perfect. He suddenly found himself busy with other festival tasks, wanting to help as much as he could. But the trade was not seeing her, and soon the planning wore on him again.

She had not come to him at night, nor he to her. He had been leading the boys of the academy to other tasks concerning the festival. The boats at the shore, the lanterns to be lit, the dogs and other familiars to be gathered for their adoration. All of this took work. And unfortunately for the boys, too often recently, Faustus had been quick to his temper. Quick to fix and agonize over the various details. He wanted it to be perfect for her — his Lilith, his Diana. But the problem, of course, was that the only person who could calm him was not there. He could see the boys around him start to give him more berth, work more diligently but also more quietly so as not to ire him further. It had been miles away from him joking around and laughing with him during other festival preparations. He missed those times, but mostly he missed Zelda.

And now, apparently he had yet another problem as he saw Sabrina storm through his office doors, anger etched across her face, and walk firmly towards him. 

He sighed and tossed a list aside. “Ah, Miss Spellman, what can I do for you?” They’ve had somewhat of a detente for the sake of Zelda but Faustus knew Sabrina still loathed him entirely.

“You need to go talk to Auntie Z. She’s been stressed out for the past week about the festival and today she’s laying into anyone and everyone. You know how she is normally but this is different. Will you please go see her?”

Faustus felt a little amused by being asked to step in. Sabrina didn’t ask things like this of him, she rather avoided considering him and Zelda altogether. He did want to see her, and this was a perfect excuse. 

He raised an eyebrow, “I’m sure your Aunt is fine. She wants everything to be perfect for tomorrow.”

He liked not giving in at the first instance, and so Sabrina huffed in her terrible teenager way. “Well, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think you would say no. Nick says you’ve been absolutely monstrous yourself and it seems like the two of you need one another.”

Faustus looks down at his desk and shuffled papers about to avoid glancing at Sabrina. She had been right, and now Faustus knew that the boys had in fact been speaking about his behavior.

He sighed, “Where is she?”

“The Lake.” He nodded and walked out of his office, leaving Sabrina in his wake. She called after him, “Thank you.” He thinks it’s the only time Sabrina has thanked him for anything.

The trip to the lake would have been nothing if he had teleported but he rather enjoyed the summer walk through the woods, time to think, time to check on the path and enjoy the sun as it was setting.

As he got closer he could see that Zelda had been making even further preparations. The lake reflected the stunning light of the reflected sunset on the surface of the water and the lush green leaves of the trees. Zelda herself was in her ceremonial gown, her back towards him, and he could make out her form under the gauzy white gown. She slowly stepped into the lake, walked several feet in, lifted her arms, and suddenly the hundreds of candles suspended over the lake and through the wood lit up. He had not even noticed them until now. It was absolutely beautiful. Zelda had outdone herself. He smiled at her, terribly proud of her plans, preparation, and strength of magic.

“It looks beautiful, my dear.”

She whips her head around, and smiles at him. “Just a run-through.” He cannot imagine what else is in store if this was just a run through.

He steps closer to the lake and she walks back towards the shore. Her dress now completely see-through from her shoulders downwards, after being submerged. She grasps his hand held out to her and he responds by pulling her flush against him. He doesn’t care that she’s getting him wet as he embraces her.

She hugs him back, her arms thrown around his middle. “Don’t you have work to do?” she says against his chest.

He laughs a bit, and she looks up at him, her face serious. “Of course I do. The boys are all working. Sabrina asked me to come check on you. That you’ve been a terror, my dear.” 

She pulls out of his embrace, her eyes fiery. “Oh, did she now? She’s probably mad that she has to buckle down and work, and can’t go off whenever she feels like it.”

He smiles, “She’s just like you at this age.” Zelda rolls her eyes and she knows that he’s right.

Faustus motions towards the lake, “It is stunning, Zelda. Are you almost done, or do you want more of run through?” 

She’s looking out at the lake now, all lit up and the sun setting further over the horizon. His hand is around her back and hers is around his waist. Tomorrow the lake would be populated with all of the Academy. The students, staff, and coven all in tunics and togas. All would be outfitted in the garlands and wreaths that Zelda and her committee had made.

Zelda, ever the perfectionist, was wearing her crisp white toga, with a fold of the fabric over her head like a hood. Though the bottom of her costume was now laden with water. 

“I would like a rehearsal with my High Priest but sadly, he’s not dressed for the occasion.” She looked up at him and grinned. He too had a crisp white toga, in a very similar vein to Zelda’s, also made by Hilda. But it was back in his office and rather than summon it, he peeled himself from Zelda, and shrugged off his clothes. Zelda grinned at him as he waded into the water.

He stood in the lake with his hand held out to her, and she slowly made her way in again. Tomorrow they would be here again, and they would say and feel the proper emotions that went along with the ceremony. The reverence that belonged to Diana, then Lilith, then to all of the women in the coven. Mostly, Faustus felt reverent of Zelda. He stood and lowered the hood from her costume. The pretense of a run through now seemed too much as he stood naked in the water with Zelda.  
Her white column dress completely see-through as she stood against him. 

He would whisper sacred words tomorrow, he would wash her hair and bathe her then. For now he wanted nothing more than to have her in the privacy of this moment. His hand lingered on her neck, and toyed with the cloth at her shoulder. It had been too long since they were last together, days. His fingers drew along her neck and she closed her eyes at the simple touch.

He finally crashed his lips to hers, and she responded in kind. He pulled her body against his, the fabric of her dress clung to her, and then it pooled around them as he untied it. Zelda’s hands gripped his neck and he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he walked them back to the nearest strip of shore, thankful for the soft bank as he laid her down. She sighed underneath him as he sheathed himself inside her. The lights glowed brighter as the sun slipped further. As Faustus whipped his hips into her, Zelda threw her hands to the side and snuffed the lights. The moon shone above them instead. It was almost full, on the second day of the festival it would be, and they would dance under it together.

—————

Faustus smiles at Zelda, who is still at the shoreline. He holds his hand out to her once more, though he’s dressed in his white garment this time, and a garland around his made of magnolia leaves by Zelda herself. Zelda sets the torch in her hand in the sandy shore of the glimmerglass lake and walks towards him. He again lowers her hood but this time says the prayer over her, lays her back in the water and washes her hair. The rest of the coven follows suit, and the lake is quiet save for the sound of disturbed water, and the cicadas chirping in the woods. 

Zelda is quiet as Faustus finishes his prayers over her and he holds out his hand once more, and they cross the lake hand in hand. At shore he crowns her with a garland of gardenias and a wreath at her head of the same. He picks up the torch and leads them to the ivy-laden temple at the shore. Zelda ties her beribboned token around a column and Faustus does the same. Soon the rest of the coven will follow and the temple will be full once more of wishes to Lilith for the coming year. 

Faustus takes Zelda’s arm and the torch once more, leading the procession back to the Academy for the feast.. He smiles at her choice of token. He knows it’s a private wish but he recognized it as it was the same as his. She leans her head on his arm, and he finds himself enjoying Nemoralia afterall. 

He hopes that Lilith chooses to bless them. Afterall, it’s the least she can do after all the trouble they went to for her assumption.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For now I am closing submissions for this series as I need to catch up, and I anticipate being busy with real life. Thank you to all who submitted. I will get to the prompts as promptly as I can. Xx

**Author's Note:**

> I am not ignoring Another Year, update soon. Xx
> 
> SpellwoodManor on Tumblr.


End file.
